Day seven, breakfast.

And I need to put on a mask.

Cold scrambles, cold, scrambled egg.

I've been living in Spain for six years, but the time has come to return home.

And so after 24 hours of flying, I'm pretty jet lagged.

The sharp wrap on the door is not particularly welcome, but it does mean the breakfast has arrived.

I'm very lucky that I have a room that has a fantastic view looking right out over Darling Harbor.

It's gorgeous, and that really is a bonus.

I've just been reading emails and seeing what's going on in the news.

I've spent a bit of time on Facebook.

I've been sitting down and staring at a screen for a couple of hours now, so I am gonna lie on my bed.

And I read a book, right?

There's just been a knock on the door, so that can only mean lunch.

Let's see what they've delivered for me.

A beef rice and something. A bit of flavor to the rice. There she is.

And my wife is spoiling me. Let's see. Time for a bit of exercise.

Had a nice chat with my wife for a couple of hours, which always puts me in a good mood.

She brought me a nice coffee , and a little bit of cake, so I'm gonna have to do my best to work that off.

I try to do 1000 steps at a time.

My four or five walks around the room.

It's a routine based around exercise, chats with friends, finding a house, finding a car, finding a job.

Right. Done my exercise had a shower, caught up with some friends, watched a bit of trash TV, done a bit of reading, had my dinner.

Now, time for what I call my therapy.

I need to kind of wash my pajamas and T shirts.

I'm not gonna lie.

I've actually found it quite therapeutic to do my laundry in here.